Rocked by an Angel

by Sophia Hampton

  When she settled, he slid his cock deep into her with one stroke. She gasped at the invasion and he tensed his whole body, resisting the urge to drive into her hard and fast. Seconds later, she had her legs locked around him and was drawing him in deeper. He didn't think he'd ever felt anything or anyone as amazing as Melody, right here, right now. She was warm and wet and clenched tight around him. He pumped into her, feeling her nails rake across his bare back. Feeling the buildup and knowing he couldn't hold out much longer, he leaned down and took one turgid nipple into his mouth. She groaned and started to writhe with the need for release. When he bit down gently, her whole body started to shake. He felt her grip him inside and couldn't stop the blast that was bearing down. He came into her, and they stayed like that for a long time.

  He looked out the window across the room and realized it was night. He stood, shaking the clenched muscles of his thighs out. Looking down on Melody, he thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful. Her hair was splayed out across the pillow, his pillow. This was right, he knew it.

  The next morning he woke up happier than he had in a long time. He breathed deep into her hair, smelling her flowery perfume and the scent of her. She murmured in her sleep and rubbed up against him. He fought the urge to press closer against her. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, and then slid out of bed carefully. He grabbed a new pair of boxers out of the drawer and headed into shower.

  Rinsing the soap out of his hair, he fought not to grin like an idiot and tried to figure out what his next move would be. Should he ask her out like he had so many years ago? Was that lame now? Maybe he should just assume she would be going out with him tonight? Or was that rude? After going back and forth, he decided he would just make plans and if she said yes, great.

  He brushed his teeth quickly, and then headed out of the bathroom. The words he had died, as he realized she must've left while he was in the shower. He headed to the front door and confirmed that it was unlocked.

  Nice work, Kent, he lectured himself. He knew she tended to be flighty and would try avoid any kind of commitment. He should never have left without securing her for the next time. He finished getting ready and then headed to work.

  Melody finished showering and thought about Jackson. She tried not to, but her brain wasn't listening to her. She kept picturing him over her, sliding into her. The soap slipped out of her numb fingers, and she cursed at herself for being so silly. She was a grown woman after all.

  Late afternoon, she received a delivery. Seeing the big white daisies, she knew it was from Jackson. He knew she hated roses, hated how traditional and generic they were. Daisies were such a happy flower. She had once told him that you couldn't not be happy looking at a daisy. Trying to keep the smile off her face, she signed for them and brought them into her kitchen.

  Attached to the flowers was a note. Meet me tonight, 7 pm at Gardner's. She thought for a split second and decided to accept. She wanted to say no, but she wasn't the type to deny herself happiness if it was harmless. At least, she hoped it was harmless.

  After dinner that night, they headed back to his place. Before the after-dinner coffee was even poured, they were naked on his kitchen counter, like two horny school kids. In the morning, he drove her back to her place with the promise of picking her up around the same time and taking her to the local fish fry.

  It became a routine with them, dinner at 7, make love until late night, take her back to her house in the morning. Melody was starting to think she could get used to this. And then it happened. He was in the shower with the door open, and she was cuddled up in bed waiting for him to coax her out of bed with coffee.

  "Melody?" She murmured some kind of a response, cozy in her blankets.

  He turned the water off and slung a towel loose around his hips. He waited for her to look up. When she blinked up at him sleepily, he wondered if he was about to ruin everything.

  "Stay here," he demanded quietly. Her eyes focused immediately and he saw her body tense.

  "You know I can't," she warned, for a split second wishing it wasn't true.

  "You've already said it's too dangerous lately. You've done everything you hoped to accomplish. Just...come home." He tried to keep the whiny boy's voice from coming through, but inside he was wishing fervently.

  She smiled a sad smile up at him and he knew it was over. "I should get home. I have some calls to make."

  They both finished dressing, and he dropped her off like he normally did. This time when he asked what time to pick her up, she hesitated, saying she would let him know.

  His day was dark and gloomy, knowing that she believed they were in the same place they had been so many years ago. Nothing had really changed. The motorcycle club still meant everything to him and her career still meant everything to her. All of his feelings had come back tenfold, but hers apparently had not changed. Her job and lifestyle were still at the top of her list.

  It took him until the end of the day to realize that he couldn't let her leave. He would do whatever he had to do to get her to stay. He drove over to her place to tell her his plans for them. He was surprised when he didn't see her car in the driveway, but figured maybe she had to run errands.

  Four days later, he realized she had left for good. She had taken everything important, had dead bolted the door, and the town realtor had mentioned to him that she had asked questions about selling before she had left, saying she would be in touch.

  Jackson felt sick. He went to his club meeting like usual, but three members at different points came up to him, asking if everything was okay. Normally he would take a ride, but even cruising down the highway without her clutched against him felt wrong.

  Damn her, he thought, frustrated. She would take the one thing that had always completed him...besides her.

  He decided to take a road trip, two weeks after she had left. This was not going to be a repeat of them as kids. She had once asked why he hadn't come after her, and he'd be damned if he let the same mistake happen again.

  He reached her condo by nine the next morning. He figured it was a long shot - it was the place she only stayed when she wasn't on tour or practicing. He rang the doorbell and prayed.

  After the third time, he heard steps on the stairs.

  "Coming!" Even the sound of her voice made him miss her more. She threw open the door, and he caught a wave of her flowery scent. Whatever she was going to say died in her throat when she saw him. She stood there, gaping.

  He took that opportunity to say his piece. "I know that you don't want to see me right now. I know you're trying to run away. And the last time that actually worked, but it's not going to work this time."

  "I'm not-"

  "Yes," he interrupted. "You are. You're running. Just like you did that first night and just like you did all those years ago."

  She closed her mouth, looking at him intently.

  "I love you, Melody. I probably always have. I used to tell you all the time and I should have, could have, told you that first day I saw you back in town."

  Melody took a good look at the man standing before her. He looked gorgeous as always, tousled and tan. He was wearing a fitted black tee with a Harley emblem on it and jeans that were worn and hugged his muscled thighs. He flipped his hair with a look of annoyance, and she had to hide a smile. Typical Jackson Kent.

  "Jacks-" she started, stepping closer to him.

  "Don't come any closer. If you come closer, then I'm going to take you upstairs and not let you back down for twenty-four hours. Then, it's going to be all about sex and you'll stay until it's about something more, and then you'll leave." He took a breath.

  She waited until she was certain he was done, and then she spoke, "I love you, Kent."

  He opened and shut his mouth, not sure if this was a trick. "You do?"

  "Obviously. Why else would I put up with your dirty laundry on the floor and the annoying way you try to kiss me when I'm angry at you? Those are serious offenses!" She tried to keep a stern face,
but the love that she had felt for more than a decade started to shine through.

  "Then," he started, hesitantly, "does that mean..."

  "Yes, you idiot. I want to be with you. Permanently." She threaded her fingers through his, and he cupped her face in his hand.

  "We can live on your tour bus. I'll leave the club behind." This surprised her, causing her to rumple his t-shirt in her clenched fingers.

  "Y-you would do that for me?" she asked, tripping over her syllables.

  "Of course I would! I did just say I loved you, Mel. That's what love is, right? Giving. Receiving. Taking..." He squeezed her butt, and she couldn't stop the giggle from escaping.

  "Stop that. You're not giving up the club." That stopped him dead in his tracks, mid squeeze.

  "What?" he asked, hoarsely.

  "Why do you think I left? I had to get my affairs in order. I rented out this condo, and I took the job being the music teacher at Grovesfield High School, the next town over."

  He stood there looking at her, stunned. She continued, "Oh, I'm sure I'll still do shows and tracks occasionally in my off time, but I'm over the rock star lifestyle. I have been for quite some time, I guess. It was fun when I was younger, but not now. Not when I have something real and lasting at my fingertips." She touched his face gently, rubbing her thumb over his mouth and chin. "Now...are you going to make an honest women out of me or not?"

  He laughed, crushing her to him tightly. "Melody Renee Turner...will you marry me?"

  "Yes, Jackson Dean Kent. I believe I will." He lifted her up into his arms and swung her around, not caring that they were drawing a crowd in from the street, a bus passing by full of tourists. They whistled and cheered, as he planted a firm kiss on her lips. He placed a large square diamond on her finger, and she brushed away an errant tear.

  Apparently love DOES wait, she thought happily.

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  ***

  They stopped looking for Shane Perry fifteen years ago.

  They did all they could do; filed reports, dragged the lake, and finally presumed him dead. The high school football field lit up with candlelight at his memorial, and mourners gathered to gaze at his glossy image: youthful and tall with a heart melting grin.

  Bikes and bikers are all Maggie Rice has ever known.

  She was riding before she could walk and switching out clutch plates by junior high. She was a quirky, fiery haired tomboy and it was her dream to ride with the 417s. Formerly her father’s crew, they all had a hand in raising her after his passing. Now that she ran her own garage, it seemed her chance had arrived at last.

  When the ghost of Shane Perry rides into town, he threatens to spoil it all.

  The day of her initiation into the 417s, Shane waltzed back into town as if he’d only been gone the weekend, and his first order of business was to crush her chance at happiness. No woman was going to ride in Shane Perry’s gang, not ever, and certainly not his closest childhood friend.

  Maggie doesn’t believe for one second his arrival is coincidental.

  Was it possible to hate and love a man at the same time? Where had Shane been all those years and why was he back? And when the Hell did he get so damned gorgeous?

  ***

  Allison Russell has a special knack for getting into trouble.

  An intoxicating mix of beauty and bravado, she made her living unearthing things certain people would rather remain buried: stolen goods, dirty secrets, and more than a little trouble. She lived for the thrill of the hunt, and a fat stack of cash after a job well done sure didn’t hurt.

  Jake Brighton has two talents, riding and thieving.

  He loved them in just that order, too. There was no better feeling than making a clean getaway with his partners in crime and fellow bikers, the Dixon Crew. He’d been riding with the Dixons since before he was shaving. They were his friends and his brothers and he’d proudly take a bullet for any one of them.

  And that’s why he ain’t buying what Allison Russell is selling.

  A case of mistaken identity on the job leads Allison to a startling discovery, but before she can inform her client she must escape the Dixon Crew with her life. She must persuade the handsome but distrustful Jake Brighton to come to her aid, but his loyalty to his friends may just be the only thing more powerful than the aching tension growing between them.

  Jake believes in his crew, but Allison intoxicates him.

  If what she says is true, he’s been living a lie. But trusting a beautiful woman is never easy, particularly one who stirs a lust in him he’s never known. Is Allison the real deal, or is she using him to satisfy her client?

  ***

  Grace is the very best at what she does.

  Working for the Public Defender’s Office is thankless and the pay is meager, but she’s a true believer in the justice system. The beautiful, underpaid attorney has made it her life’s mission to see to it that ‘innocent until proven guilty’ still means something.

  Tobey is a self-confessed career criminal.

  Enforcer, thief, con-man ... He’s done it all and proudly. Tobey never cared for authority and a life of crime agrees with him.The handsome thug carved out a comfortable life for himself pulling odd jobs for a motorcycle gang, but only when he feels like it.

  There are some things Tobey won’t do for any price.

  Namely murder, so it’s a shock when he’s arrested for the death of a local businessman. Tobey knows he’s been framed, but the evidence is overwhelming and the outlook is grim.

  That is until the lovely public defender comes to his rescue.

  But when Grace uncovers evidence to exonerate Tobey both their lives are in danger and Tobey is quickly coming to the conclusion that he can’t let any harm come to his beautiful champion, not now or ever.

  ***

  Casey Stone has always known her family was a little different.

  She doesn’t know the details, but she’s heard enough whispers through cracked doors to know they’re criminals of some variety, and she’s happy not to know which.

  Brian was just playing around when he sidled up to the Stone boys’ sister and offered her a drink.

  He isn’t a cruel man, but the boys were watching and their sister is objectively beautiful - long legs, modest curves, and a face that begs to be kissed. He just couldn’t resist riling them up a bit. Then she spoke and he was lost.

  The Stone boys were not about to let this one slide.

  They couldn’t send her running to him any faster than by forbidding her to see him. If they’d told her she’d destroy the subtle truce between two rival gangs and cause a cycle of violence and death, she might have been more willing to listen.

  Now there’s a line drawn in the sand, and Brian and Casey are standing on opposite sides.

  Can Brian put an end to the feuding before he loses Casey forever? Or is it too late already to repair the fragile trust between them?

  ***

  Michael Lawrence is not the kind of man who runs from a little conflict.

  He’s a brute. Or at least that’s the reputation he’s so carefully cultivated throughout his years of running his crew, a gang of motorcycle enthusiasts comprised of thugs and professionals alike. They all have one thing in common: they all find Michael Lawrence a lot more frightening than local law enforcement.

  Sarah knows all about Michael Lawrence.

  Or so she thinks. She’s come across his handiwork writing for the paper and what she’s seen has disgusted her. Sarah detests violence, the thing Michael Lawrence seems to bring with him everywhere he goes.

  Now Michael is getting to know Sarah.

  Sarah’s latest article has Michael’s crew all worked up, as it implicates about half of them. Michael’s not too pleased, either, but when his crew decides to take matters into their own hands it’s Michael’s reluctant duty to keep her saf
e.

  And Sarah doesn’t have the good sense to be terrified.

  The beautiful reporter has no fear and no particular fondness for Michael. Can Michael bring her around before she runs headlong into serious trouble? And more importantly, how will find the strength to let her go when the danger’s passed?